


The Halloween Party

by halcyon1993



Series: The Kinky Adventures of a Wolf and His Boy [83]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Armpit Kink, Barebacking, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Come Eating, Daddy Kink, Established Relationship, Facials, Father/Son Incest, Felching, Foreskin Play, Hairy Derek Hale, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Incest, Large Cock, M/M, Marathon Sex, Older Man/Younger Man, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory Negotiations, Post-Coital Cuddling, Rimming, Spells & Enchantments, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Derek Hale, Top Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:41:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27309367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyon1993/pseuds/halcyon1993
Summary: Stiles attends a Halloween party with his boyfriend, Derek. Unbeknownst to him, the mask he bought for the occasion has a spell on it—whoever he's attracted to will be attracted to him in return. Did he mention that Derek's dad is a total DILF?
Relationships: Derek Hale's Father/Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Derek Hale's Father, Derek Hale/Derek Hale's Father/Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: The Kinky Adventures of a Wolf and His Boy [83]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/887604
Comments: 32
Kudos: 225
Collections: Teen Wolf ▶ Derek Hale / Stiles Stilinski





	The Halloween Party

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Poke360](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poke360/gifts).



"God, I can't wait for this!" Stiles says from the passenger seat of his boyfriend's Camaro. He nearly vibrates with excitement.

Said boyfriend, Derek Hale, glances at him as he eases the car to a stop at a red light. Stiles is in his senior year of high school, whereas Derek, at twenty-two years old, is already in his last year of college. They've been together since the previous summer, after Stiles finally turned eighteen and the sexual tension between them boiled over. They couldn't stay away from each other anymore. Currently, they're heading to a Halloween party at Derek's house. The Hales host one every year.

"Relax, Stiles," Derek says with a fond roll of his eyes. "It's just a party. You've been to parties before."

"But this is _Halloween_ , Der-bear!" Stiles points out. "The costumes are different every time! I wonder what everyone's gonna be this year."

"Guess we'll just have to find out when we get there."

"Whatever. _We_ look great," Stiles says with a grin. "Especially you. So that's all that matters, right?"

"I look great, huh?"

Stiles runs his eyes up and down Derek's body as the traffic light turns green. The older man's costume is something Stiles spent two whole weeks talking him into: a sexy cop, with shorts so short they end just below his perfect ass, and a shirt that's so tight, the buttons would probably pop off if Derek breathed in too deeply.

"Oh yeah," Stiles responds. He swallows the saliva that pools in his mouth before he can embarrass himself by drooling. "You definitely do."

Derek shakes his head and concentrates on the road. "Not so bad yourself."

"Really?"

"Really. I already told you I liked it when I picked you up, remember?"

"Oh yeah."

Stiles does remember. He'd been a nervous wreck, waiting for Derek at his dad's house in the costume he thought of just after New Years. He spent months finding the perfect pieces so he could turn himself into some weird BDSM devil or incubus—from the red leather trousers and matching gloves, to the boots and black dress shirt with red patterns stitched into it. He's got the buttons undone all the way down to his navel.

Completing the ensemble are two final elements: a small pair of wings, secured to his body by straps that go over his shoulders like the straps of his school backpack, and a mask.

The mask was the last thing Stiles found. He wanted one that looked good, not something cheap and made of plastic. He searched high and low at the costume shop in the centre of town and scoured various websites, but hit dead ends every time. Eventually, he struck gold on some occult site. It looked pretty dodgy—some of the stuff on it honestly scared him with how outlandish it was—but the mask was cool-looking. The description made him laugh too. It claimed that the mask would cause anyone he lusted for to lust for him in return.

As if.

In the end, Stiles couldn't resist. Now, the mask rests in his lap. It only covers the top half of his face, ending just beneath his eyes like Captain America's cowl, but it's so detailed that it looks almost real, like burned human skin. It even feels real too—not that Stiles really knows what severe burn scars feel like. Still, he can imagine, and the creepy factor is perfect for Halloween.

Stiles fiddles with the mask for the remainder of the journey, only stopping when he detects the faint sound of music in the distance. He looks up to see that they're almost there, the sides of the road lined with trees as Derek drives them deeper into the preserve which surrounds Beacon Hills. His family home resides there, isolated.

"And here we are," Derek says grandly, pulling up the parking brake. They're in a spot that was reserved for him, right in front of the house next to his dad's car.

Peering out the front windshield, Stiles' lips stretch into a grin. It seems like everyone beat them here, dozens upon dozens of teenagers and people in their early twenties mingling on the front lawn and on the wrap-around porch. The front door is wide open, giving Stiles a glimpse of all the people inside too. Through the windows of the living and dining rooms, colourful lights flash in time with the beat of the music.

"Ready?" Derek asks him, his hand on the handle of the driver's door.

Stiles fumbles to put on his mask. Once it's in place, moulding to his face like it was made just for him, he gives his boyfriend a nod. "Ready."

* * *

Half an hour later, Stiles makes his way to the refreshments table that runs along the living room wall. He lost track of Derek a while ago as they made their way around the party, chatting to everyone they knew. He just left his best friend Scott with his girlfriend, Allison Argent, the two too busy making out in one of the corners to really keep up a conversation.

Grabbing an empty solo cup, Stiles fills it from the huge bowl in the middle of the table and takes a sip, only to grimace. Seems someone's already spiked it.

Setting his cup down again, Stiles surveys the room for his boyfriend. He hasn't seen any of the other Hales yet either, not even Derek's older sister, Laura, who usually makes it her mission to become the life of the party every single year. His eyes alight on two of his friends off to his left—Erica and Boyd, who are also in their senior year with Scott, Allison and Derek's younger sister, Cora. Erica gives him a wave when she briefly catches his eye, but then she returns her attention to Boyd, her red-painted lips pulled into a salacious smirk that has Stiles wrinkling his nose in disgust.

He's just about to head back into the thick of things when someone walks up to stand next to him.

"What're you doing loitering over here all alone?" they ask, their voice deep and gravelly. Stiles recognises it immediately, even with the music pounding through the Hales' state-of-the-art sound system. It belongs to Derek's dad, Nathaniel Hale—or Nate for short.

"Just wondering where Derek is," Stiles answers. His words come out a bit choked because of their close proximity—and because of the older man's costume.

Ever since Derek first introduced Stiles to his family, Stiles has had something of a… _crush_ …on the Hale family patriarch. It was a real problem at first. He became tongue-tied whenever Nate was around, just like he was when he and Derek first met. He worried that someone would catch on, that _Derek_ would catch on and end things just as they were starting. But, luckily for him, his boyfriend seemed oblivious.

Stiles doesn't think anyone would blame him. Widowed over a decade ago, Derek's dad is the definition of a DILF, with a full head of salt-and-pepper hair, and wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and mouth that make him look distinguished. He's stayed in good shape too, his body toned and muscular in all the right places—but not too much. He's not like some of the guys Stiles has seen at the gym, who are so huge and vascular that it's a turn-off. Truth be told, Nate is like an older version of Derek. He gives Stiles a glimpse of what his boyfriend will probably look like in twenty-five years—and while Stiles doesn't believe himself to be shallow, it's nice to know.

His crush didn't develop just from looks, though. He and Nate get along really well too. Where Derek is laconic and comes across as grumpy most of the time, Nate is boisterous and snarky, easily going toe-to-toe with Stiles. It's fun.

"Stiles? You okay?" Nate waves a hand in front of his eyes, and Stiles realises he's just been standing there.

"Oh! Yeah, I'm good," he hastens to reply. "Just thinking."

"About what?"

"N-nothing."

 _Totally not about how sexy you look right now,_ Stiles adds in his head. He has to resist looking away from Nate's face, to where his body is barely covered at all by the white toga he sports. Both shoulders and arms are exposed, along with one half of his hirsute chest. The same is true for most of his legs because the toga ends mid-thigh. If there were a breeze, the hem would fly up and give Stiles one hell of an eyeful.

If only.

The ensemble is completed by a gold leaf crown.

"You sure about that?" Nate asks, cocking his head to the side. His lips curl up into a smirk that's too similar to the one Stiles saw Erica give Boyd. Why is he looking at him like that?

"I'm sure," Stiles says. He should really find Derek before the temptation becomes too much and he does something stupid.

"Alright, then."

Nate looks intensely at Stiles for several long seconds before wandering off. The eighteen-year-old breathes a sigh of relief and presses a hand to his chest, feeling his heartbeat slow down now that he isn't so close to his crush anymore. Again, he looks around the living room for Derek, just in time to see said man enter through the doorway directly across from him. Derek appears to be searching for him too, and with a wave, Stiles catches his attention and is gifted with the way Derek's face lights up with a wide smile.

"I was looking for you," Derek says when he reaches him. He plants a chaste kiss to Stiles' lips.

Stiles hums happily. "Well, you found me."

They talk for a while, mingle some more, and every now and then Stiles feels a tingling on the back of his neck, like someone's watching him. He ignores it at first—the house is filled with people and his leather trousers make his ass look great, so it's understandable that eyes would be on him from time to time—but eventually it becomes constant and he can't ignore it any longer.

Stiles scans the room he and Derek are in for the culprit, and soon finds Derek's dad staring right back him, his gaze even more intense than when they parted ways. Stiles expects Nate to look away, ashamed at being caught, but he doesn't break eye contact for even a second. He just grins.

Weird.

* * *

Two hours later, the party winds down and the house empties of people. During that time, Nate continued to eye Stiles as if he was a prime piece of meat he wanted to gobble up, while Stiles got both more weirded out and turned on. To have Nate watching him like that, like Nate has never seen him before, well…a part of Stiles enjoyed it.

Presently, he lounges on the sofa in the living room, most of the cleanup already done. Laura has returned to her own place, and Cora is shut up in her bedroom, likely already asleep. He tips his head over the back of the sofa and shuts his eyes, just in time for the cushion next to him to dip.

"Tired, sweetheart?" a voice asks—and, despite the pet name, it's not Derek's.

Snapping open his eyes, Stiles lifts his head to find that the person next to him is Nate. "Umm…" he says dumbly, unable to think of how to respond. Especially when Nate rests a hand on his thigh and strokes his thumb back and forth over the sensitive inside.

"I hope you're not _too_ tired," Nate says, shuffling closer so their legs press together.

"Why—" Stiles swallows around the lump that suddenly appears in his throat. "Why not?" he squeaks.

"Because then we couldn't have some fun."

"W-what?"

Nate moves his hand higher up Stiles' thigh. "Don't play coy, sweetheart. It's adorable, but unnecessary. We both know how you feel about me."

Stiles' eyes widen and his heart stutters in his chest. "You…you know?"

"Oh, I've known since Derek brought you home to introduce you to me," Nate says with a soft hum. He drapes his arm along the back of the sofa and scratches his short nails through the hair on the back of Stiles' head.

"Oh god…"

"That feel good?"

Stiles wants to say no—he _should_ say no—but all he does is nod.

"Mmm…I thought so."

"Why now?" Stiles manages to ask, trying and failing to resist pushing back against Nate's hand.

"Why now, what, sweetheart?"

"Why are you doing this tonight? What's changed? You've never shown any interest in me before, at least none that I've seen."

Nate frowns to himself. "I don't know. There's just something about you tonight. I saw you…and it was like this feeling came over me, like I was seeing you for the first time. You're such a beautiful boy, Stiles. You'd look even more beautiful writhing with pleasure underneath me."

Stiles feels himself swelling in his leather trousers. They're so tight, the growing bulge is obvious. He's so busy wallowing in his own mortification that Nate's words don't fully register right away, especially with him still scratching lightly over his scalp. But then the words trigger a memory in Stiles' brain, of the listing for the mask he currently wears:

_It will cause anyone you want to lust for you in return._

Could it be…?

No, there's no such thing as magic, or spells, or enchantments. This must all be one huge coincidence. Right?

Just to make sure, Stiles raises his hands to his mask and, after a breath, takes it off. Just which outcome he's anticipating, he can't say, not even to himself, so he waits, tense. He waits for Nate to either realise what he's doing and apologise profusely for his odd behaviour—thus proving the existence of magic—or keep coming on to him, proving instead that Nate is just a very good actor who's finally given up the game.

Nate's frown returns, and his fingers pause in Stiles' hair. He holds himself still, like he's struggling with something, processing.

Any time now, Stiles thinks, guessing that option one was correct—which would mean magic is real and…wow. But, as the seconds tick by, Nate seems to come back to himself, shaking himself a bit before resuming exactly what he was doing before. Was it another coincidence, or is the enchantment permanent?

The thought has Stiles' head spinning.

"Sorry about that," Nate says, squeezing his thigh. "Lost myself. Where was I?"

Before Stiles can reply, Nate leans in close and nibbles lightly on his earlobe. He shudders and his cock reaches full-mast.

"But…Derek!" he tries, his boyfriend's name coming out with a gasp.

"Yes, my son is very lucky to have you," Nate murmurs, licking over the edge of Stiles' jaw. "I'm jealous of both of you."

"He'll be mad."

"No, he won't."

Stiles should get up, leave, pretend this never happened. But he doesn't move. He can't get his limbs to work. "He definitely will. I…I love him. I don't want him to break up with me."

"He won't," Nate repeats. He pulls back and grips Stiles' chin, turning his head so they're facing each other. His eyes are just as entrancing as they were during the party. "Trust me; I know my son."

"I know him too."

Nate smirks. "Wanna bet? He's in the kitchen right now."

Stiles startles. "H-he is?"

"Yup. He walked past a couple minutes ago."

Stiles didn't hear him. Oh god. Oh fuck. He's so screwed.

"Derek! Come in here!" Nate shouts, heedless of Stiles' inner turmoil.

The teenager dreads his boyfriend—likely his soon-to-be ex-boyfriend, because Derek's dad can't be right—coming into the living room. He sits there as Derek walks through the kitchen doorway and pauses just over the threshold, taking in the sight before him with an inscrutable expression.

"It's not what it looks like!" Stiles claims desperately.

"No need to lie, sweetheart," Nate chides affectionately. He grips the back of Stiles' neck—which is far more comforting than Stiles is expecting—before addressing his son. "It's _exactly_ what it looks like."

Derek's countenance doesn't change, and Stiles can't read him at all. He can _always_ read Derek like a book, knows exactly what's running through his head at any moment, so to be totally in the dark is disconcerting, to say the least.

"I think he needs you to say something," Nate says to his son with an arched eyebrow. "Put him out of his misery."

Derek arches an eyebrow right back before venturing forward, coming to a stop right in front of Stiles and his dad. He holds Stiles' gaze for what feels like an hour, and then leans down to catch his dad's lips in a kiss that's not at all chaste or innocent.

Stiles can't believe what he's seeing, father and son making out as if they've done it before, as if there's nothing unusual about it at all. After the shock fades somewhat, the next emotion that overcomes Stiles is anger. Rage. Have Derek and his dad been doing this the whole time? Have they done it since Stiles came into the picture? He voices the accusation before he can think better of it—and he doesn't acknowledge the disappointment he feels when Derek stops kissing his dad, putting an end to a sight that was way hotter than it had any right to be.

"We haven't, Stiles," Derek denies, cupping his cheek. His face is readable again, soft and loving.

"But…" Stiles flicks his eyes back and forth between the two Hales. "It's obviously not the first time you've done that."

Nate chuckles. He squeezes the back of Stiles' neck again. "You're right about that."

"We used to do this all the time," Derek explains. He drags the coffee table closer and perches on the edge, his bare legs spread in a V, so he's not stooped over awkwardly for this conversation. Stiles gets a glimpse of the ample bulge that's barely contained by his shorts—and he knows from experience that this is Derek when he's soft.

Is Nate that big too?

"You…you did?" Stiles asks.

His anger has gone the same way as his shock, and now he listens, struggling to comprehend, as Derek details how he used to sneak his way into his dad's bed nearly every night from the time he was seventeen. They'd make each other feel good, take comfort in each other, taboo be damned, and they only stopped because Derek met Stiles.

"This is insane," Stiles says.

Derek's mouth twists in that funny way it always does when he's nervous. "I know it's a lot to take in."

"You think?"

"But you don't really have room to talk," Nate chimes in with a flutter of his eyelashes. "After all, you want me too—and honestly, I can't blame you." He gestures at himself. "I'm practically god's gift."

Stiles and Derek scoff in tandem.

"Arrogant, is what you are," Derek corrects. He narrows his eyes, but the glare is facetious. Stiles can see that he enjoys his dad's sass.

"Were you…" Stiles worries at his bottom lip. "Were you in a…a _relationship_? And do Laura and Cora know?"

Derek shakes his head. "We weren't. And no, they don't. I think Laura suspected, but she's never brought it up."

"We weren't in a relationship back then," Nate corroborates. "But…"

"But?" Derek prompts his dad.

Stiles stays silent, waiting.

"But maybe, since all three of us clearly want each other, we can change that. If that's alright with you, Stiles."

Stiles fingers the mask in his lap. He's unable to just shrug off what happened when he took it off. He considers bringing it up, but would Derek and Nate even believe him? It sounds crazy. And besides, he doesn't know what he would even do about it if the enchantment or spell or whatever was real. It didn't wear off when he removed the mask, so what would be the point of saying anything now? He feels like an awful person for even thinking it, but it's too late, so he should leave it.

"Stiles?" Derek calls. He cups his cheek again, drawing his attention away from the mask. "What do you say?"

"About—" Stiles clears his throat when his voice cracks. "About the three of us?"

"Yeah. I love you, you know I do, and you're enough for me. But…" Derek glances at his dad. "But I've missed him too. If the three of us can make it work, however that turns out to be, I want it."

"What about your sisters? You said Laura might already know, but how would Cora react when she found out? And she _would_ eventually."

Derek looks down with a sigh. "They'd both be squicked at first, probably. But I believe they'd come around, I really do. If it makes us happy, we're all consenting adults here. We're not hurting anyone."

"My dad's the sheriff," Stiles reminds the other men. "Isn't incest illegal in California? Hell, it's illegal in most places!"

"As far I know, yes." Derek shrugs. "I don't think he'd arrest us, though. Do you?"

Stiles contemplates it and comes to the conclusion that, no, his dad wouldn't. "He wouldn't like it, though."

With all of this talk, his questions, his doubts…Stiles is just putting off the inevitable. He already knows what his answer will be. He just feels like an awful person because of it—but as Derek pointed out, all three of them are consenting, and they get along swimmingly. And god, it would be amazing to be the filling in a Hale sandwich, to have both Derek and his DILF of a dad do whatever they want to him. He can already picture it, him on his hands and knees, them fucking him from both ends…and then, afterward, lying between them, Derek spooning him while he tucks his face into Nate's sweaty neck and plays with his chest hair, black sprinkled with grey.

"Fuck…" Stiles groans, shutting his eyes for a few seconds. His cock throbs in his leather trousers, his arousal renewed.

"Was that a sound of approval?" Nate enquires. He looks hopeful when Stiles opens his eyes again.

Bracing himself, Stiles gives his assent. "Okay," he says with confidence. He figures he might as well go all in. "I want this. Both of you."

Derek's shoulders go down with relief, and he pulls Stiles into a kiss. "Thank god," he breathes against his boyfriend's mouth.

"Hey, save some for me!" Nate complains with the mother of all pouts.

Stiles laughs brightly at the put-out expression on Derek's face and turns to his boyfriend's father. He can hear his own heartbeat in his ears, thumping and loud, can feel Derek watching them as he shifts closer to Nate, as the distance between their lips gets shorter and shorter…

Shorter and shorter, still…

When they finally touch, Stiles knows things will never be the same. There's no going back now.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I managed to crank out the first part of this fic in time for Halloween. I was worried I'd miss the occasion entirely! In case it wasn't obvious, this part was all setup, and the second and final part will contain the porn. I can't give an exact estimate of when I'll have it finished (my muse is being uncooperative right now), but it should be ready by the end of November at the latest. Don't forget to let me know what you think so far. I always love receiving feedback from you guys. :)
> 
> Thank you to Poke360 for giving me this prompt. I hope it's shaping up to be exactly what you wanted.
> 
> If you have a naughty idea you'd like me to bring to life, leave it in a comment down below and I'll see what I can do. My only condition is that it's M/M and contains some form of Sterek.
> 
> **P.S. Don't forget to subscribe to me to be notified when my future updates go live. And please check out my past fics if you haven't already and are interested.**


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